


The Scent and Sensation Affair

by aHostileRainbow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Challenge Response, Drama, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aHostileRainbow/pseuds/aHostileRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to the 6impear challenge on LJ. "The Sea Sorcerer, eh?" "Harry. My name is Harry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blood Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in an eight-part, COMPLETE chapter response to the Six Imp Ear Challenge over at LJ. Here be SLASH of the Harry Potter/Jack Sparrow variety. The Six Imp Ear Challenge prompt I chose is Bewitching Brews, see http://6impearfics.livejournal.com/869.html for more details. I'll be posting the whole fic either two or three chapters a week until they're all up. The chapter titles will be the scents from Bewitching Brews and the descriptions will be at the top.
> 
> PS. Be prepared for a certain amount of overdramatics and lacking continuity, folks. Remember, these are each a separate response to a prompt which just happened to end up following the same basic storyline.

_Blood Kiss: Lush, creamy vanilla and the honey of the sweetest kiss smeared with the vital throb of husky clove, swollen red cherries, but darkened with the vampiric sensuality of vetiver, soporific poppy and blood red wine, and a skin-light pulse of feral musk._

**First Encounter: Blood Kiss**

A string of obscene whimpers fell from the lad's lips, liberally stained with blood from various and sundry bites, coal black hair mussed and wild spread over the satin sheets. Jack groaned deep in the back of his throat, nipping down a tanned stomach to a continuous chorus of moans, mewls, pleas of  _more, more, please, more!_  It was like sleeping with a siren, desperate and animalistic, begging for pleasure, for pain, for everything he could give and then some till he was drained dry. And Jack couldn't say no, couldn't fathom denying this beautiful creature the slightest bit of his body or his soul.

As the minutes passed, the writhing beneath him grew frantic, wanton,  _something, anything, please!_  Jack found himself sweating in the heat of a freezing night and a nameless, blazing passion unlike anything he'd ever experienced. This lad couldn't be real, couldn't be human, but nothing inhuman could be so consumed by mortal desires.

Then, before he could come to grips with what had happened, his vision flared white and the lad cried out, nearly sobbing, and they collapsed together in a pile of stick and sweat and panting silence. Shockingly, for Jack, the lad was recovered in less than two minutes and had Jack out the door in another moment – himself still bare as the day he was born.

For the first time that night, clear, green eyes focused on him, leaning on the door frame nonchalantly and looking him up and down like a piece of particularly juicy meat. A low, smooth voice commented amusedly, "You were good. Feel free to stop by again." And the door was closing in his face. Seized by a sudden, implacable impulse – rather like the one which had brought him up the stairs from the bar to a rented room with a stranger – Jack stuck his foot out to hold the door and curiosity melted across aristocratic features as they peeked up at him through black lashes, "Yes?"

Jack paused, feeling lost for just a second before he found his balance again after the insane night. "What's your name, lad?"

The lad looked him over again, smiling an unreadable smile, with perhaps a few too many teeth on display to be comforting. "They call me the Sea Sorcerer, Captain Jack Sparrow," he laughed at Jack's startle, never having given his name to the lad that he could recall. "No fear, Jack," and he leaned up on tip-toes to give the man a fast, spine-melting kiss. "We'll meet again."

He laughed once more and shut the door on Jack's dazed face. Jack stared blankly at the paint and pockmarks. Shaking himself, he made his way back through the raucous crowds of Tortuga at midnight, having to work a little harder for his careless swagger. Stepping aboard the  _Pearl_ , a smile finally spread across his face and he chuckled into the salt air and sea breeze.

"The Sea Sorcerer, eh?"


	2. Calico Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sea air, driftwood, waterlogged kelp, and the memory of plundered spices sprayed over worn leathers, rough musk, and the salty wooden floorboards of the Revenge.

_  
_

The sun hung just off the horizon, out of sight, and the moon had yet to rise as Jack Sparrow leaned comfortably on the wheel of the _Black Pearl_ , guiding it toward Shipwreck Cove with the ease of long practice. It had been three months since that bizarre night at Tortuga and he had managed to mostly put the impish figure who'd captured his attention out of his mind. The only time he'd thought of the lad—the Sea Sorcerer, for the past weeks had been in his dreams.

Three days since he'd had a decent, full-night's, dreamless sleep and once again he found himself at the only place he could ever have peace. The  _Pearl_  had a ghostly, decaying beauty about her in the moonless dusk, shrouded in sea fog and empty of her typically rowdy crew for a few precious hours. It was times such as these Jack could remember all he had sacrificed for this freedom and knew that it was all worth it.

For a moment, he shut his eyes, relishing the rare silence but for the familiar creak of old wood, soaking in the scents of leather and musk and kelp that had always meant  _home_.

Abruptly, a low hummed tune reached his ears and his eyes snapped open. He stared about him, searching for the source until a slight, impossible figure came into his sights, seated upon the carved figurehead, legs swinging as though there weren't a care in the world. Jack blinked once, twice, shook his head, and blinked again. When the figure was still, incredibly, there, he began making his way cautiously down the creaky steps to the bow, gaze never leaving that haunting silhouette.

He came up as far as he could get, standing no more than a foot away, close enough to touch, to kiss, and stilled. The tune died away soon after and glowing green eyes turned to him, a small smile pulling at chapped lips.

"Hello, Jack."

Jack couldn't help staring a moment before gathering his wits at last. "Greetings, Sea Sorcerer. May I ask how you find yourself upon my ship this evening?" An impish smile was his answer as the lad spun around to face out to sea once more. The humming was back and all Jack could do was watch, curious and a little wary.

A single green eye glanced back at him, a hand gesturing languidly for him to climb up. Jack took a hasty step back when that hand reached for his coat to pull him forward by force. "Lad, I'm not so young as you nor interested in dying." A laugh was his response.

"Jack," the Sorcerer was facing him again and Jack blinked, wondering how he kept missing the transitions, when a hand appeared in front of his face. "Jack. Come up. I promise no harm will come to you with me."

Kohl-rimmed eyes met steady green and before he could think too hard about it, he'd taken the proffered hand and been settled halfway along the prow, his odd companion settling himself against Jack's chest. Somewhat hesitant, Jack brought up his arms to wrap around the lad, who sighed happily and shifted to a comfortable position in the embrace.

The following hours passed almost entirely in silence, quiet humming being the occasional exception. As the sun began to rise, the lad slipped out of Jack's arms, shifting around without any apparent fear of falling until he was facing the pirate captain, so close they shared breath. Leaning in, he captured salt-soaked lips in a kiss unlike any they'd shared before, slow and tender. Breaking away, he leaned his forehead against Jack's, pushing up the hat a bit to meet tired brown eyes.

He hadn't been sleeping well, either, memories haunting him as they hadn't in many years. It was only in Jack's presence that he seemed to find peace. With one more chaste kiss, he whispered against Jack's lips, "Thank you."

Brown eyes were full of questions, but he was grateful when they were tucked away and Jack merely held him close, murmuring, "Not a problem, lad." They could both hear the crew stirring belowdecks, groans and cursing echoing through old wood, and Jack sighed to himself as the lad pulled away. He stood up on the prow with nary a care for balance, smiling down at Jack as he bent to steal a bead from the pirate's hair. Jack chuckled and watched as the lad faded away into the wind, vanishing from one moment to the next.

Carefully, he slid his way back onto the deck to lean against the rail and stare blankly out to sea, smiling as he found himself humming a familiar tune under his breath.


	3. Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sultry, exotic scent that inspires devious plotting and clandestine affairs. It is a scent painted in artifice, veiled in deceit, and slithering with whispered secrets. Black palm, with cocoa, fig and shadowy wooded notes.

Going on three months now, Jack had been visited randomly by his strange little friend.

There was no distinguishable pattern that he could tell and the only consistent part of their clandestine meetings was the darkness after sunset. The lad would appear at his elbow by the helm, swinging his shorter legs over the rails, lying beside him in bed, and sometimes singing out on the prow just like the first time. Inevitably, Jack would find himself drawn to the lad's presence and they would pass the hours, the slight form settled against Jack's chest, leaning on his shoulder, lying beside him and staring up at the stars…Occasionally, they spoke to one another. Words would slip out of great or little significance and they would have long, rambling discussions about everything and nothing. Sometimes, they even spoke of their dreams, the horrors and wonders and memories that kept them awake together night after night.

And each time he came, the lad left him with a whispered secret, a glimpse into who he was, what he was, how he was – the first was  _Harry. My name is Harry_. "Harry," Jack had whispered against parted lips as they slowly vanished into the dawn winds.

Jack thought Harry might be killing him slowly sometimes. Taunting him with tanned skin and sultry smiles and open-mouthed kisses like promises, but refusing to go farther. He understood – he didn't want to share their time together either, and loud, screaming sex would be a pretty clear giveaway to the entire crew – but he'd never claim to be happy about it. Whenever he brought it up, Harry only laughed and kissed him again and Jack would sigh and say,  _"Lad, you're not helping anything,"_  sparking another burst of laughter.

He couldn't recall ever feeling so secure with another person and one night he decided to start sharing, too. Harry whispered to him of a strange, sweet girl named Luna as the sun prepared to rise and when he turned in Jack's arms for their goodbye kiss, Jack whispered back, "My mother was a barmaid who caught a pirate captain's attention one night. I was an accident, she always said, but not an unwelcome one." Harry had smiled up at him then and Jack couldn't help the sentimental thought that his smile outshone the sunrise.

They continued this way, day after day, nothing was hidden or awkward and Jack knew they both relished the comfort they had found in each other. Then one night, Jack had whispered to Harry what it felt like to die, to resign yourself to never seeing another sunrise, and Harry had stilled where he was lying in Jack's bed, tracing nonsensical figures onto their clasped hands. He rolled himself on top of Jack and stared down at him with something like empathy and something like grace.

Reaching out, he slowly, softly, traced the features of Jack's face, memorizing, reassuring them both that Jack was still there, still alive and breathing and the sun would rise in just a moment. Jack blinked up at the lad and the next thing he knew they were standing on the deck. Not bothering to question, Jack allowed himself to be pulled along to their spot at the prow, a warm, familiar body settling into his arms. Jack sighed quietly, gratefully, as they watched the sun just breach the horizon, stilling in his turn when Harry raised his hand and spoke words he couldn't understand but felt echo in his bones.

A shimmering, pale figure burst from Harry's palm and Jack watched in wonder as a stag like starlight galloped around them and stopped before him and Harry. Harry lifted his hand, entwined with Jack's, to stroke the stag's great head and Jack breathed out sharply as a blanketing sense of love and warmth cocooned him. Burying his face in Harry's shoulder, he felt more than saw the stag disappear.

He lifted his head as Harry shifted around in his hold and met green eyes that gazed up at him, gentle and sad. Leaning down, he kissed Harry, slow and tender, and his voice was raspy when he repeated back the words from what seemed so long ago, "Thank you."

Those green eyes smiled and deceptively strong arms wrapped around him. "Never a problem, Jack."


	4. Lurid, Part ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shocking, horrific, fierce, savage, sensationalized, luminous and hazy: black currant, Bulgarian lavender and white musk with a dollop of thick resin and a voltaic charge of ozone notes.

Jack couldn't place when or how Harry appeared this time, but then, that wasn't exactly new. What was new was Harry appearing almost an hour before the sun had set in the middle of a heated battle between the _Black Pearl_  and the _Flying Dutchman_. It may have been only coincidence that Harry appeared directly in Jack's line of sight, perched atop the  _Dutchman's_ quarter deck rail right as Jack spun from his fight with Davy Jones.

Jack stilled, but only for a moment as Jones' recovered sword slashed through the place he'd stood. Twisting, he caught sight of a blade flying through the air from a heated duel between Gibbs and one of Jones' crew. He ran to snatch it off the deck, dodging another blow as he finally grasped the weapon and brought it up to block. Their duel continued, Jones losing several more tentacles and Jack vaguely registering blood dripping from a few wounds of his own.

It was as he swung around on a loose line off the mainsail that he was reminded of Harry's presence, green eyes catching his own from where their owner remained untouched up on the quarter deck. He allowed himself a moment's relief that Harry was safe, not that he was particularly surprised, and focused back on Jones. He needn't have bothered, however, as Harry chose that moment to act.

 _Crack!_  Everyone onboard the  _Dutchman_  froze in the wake of the massive bolt of lightning crashing into the mast. They watched, stunned, as the brilliance of it burned long after it should have gone out, the smell of ozone tainting the air heavily as a vaguely human form materialized out of the glow. Jack stared right along with the rest, until the figure became recognizable and he grinned.

Harry seemed to step out of the mast and the remaining energy from the lightning bolt dissipated, the occasional spark coming off of his hair and clothes the only remnant. He glanced unhurriedly about him and Jack was thankful everyone seemed too dazed to be pointing weapons at him yet, though he doubted they could harm the lad if they tried. Deciding to sit back and enjoy the show, Jack settled himself against the nearby rail where he had a nice view.

Meanwhile, Harry strode forward until he was directly before Jones. He looked the man up and down with a small frown before glancing up and raising a hand, murmuring a string of unintelligible words in the language that made Jack's bones ache. With a rush of wind, Calypso appeared at Jones' side, her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of everyone frozen – and Jack was beginning to think Harry might have something to do with that – and Harry frowning at her.

Jack watched, amused, as she frowned right back and pouted when Harry only raised an eyebrow. Her accent was particularly heavy with irritation when she spoke and Jack almost laughed at the absurdity of a goddess  _whining_.

"Sorcerer, what business have you hear?"

The other eyebrow went up and when he spoke, Harry's voice was very mild and  _very_  dry, "I should ask the same of you. You forget yourself, Calypso." Jack had never heard Harry so much as raise his voice and he never wanted to, but the quiet warning when he spoke to Calypso was worse than any shouting he could imagine.

Calypso heard the warning as well from the way her body language went from aggressive to obeisant, Jack observed with interest. She muttered something under her breath and Harry burst out laughing. "Little one, next time you find yourself lacking in entertainment, I suggest you come to me or one of the others or even find a human to catch your fancy." Jack doubted anyone but he saw the swift glance his way or the amusement in Harry's next words, "I assure you, they are never boring."

Jack smiled.


	5. Lurid, Part TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shocking, horrific, fierce, savage, sensationalized, luminous and hazy: black currant, Bulgarian lavender and white musk with a dollop of thick resin and a voltaic charge of ozone notes.

Calypso pouted at Harry. "I did try a human," she sulked. Harry stared at her, openly skeptical. Calypso growled and pointed to Jones where he stood, just three feet from her, "Him." Harry's eyebrows went up again as he looked the fish-man over, "I believe I said, 'human,' my dear." Calypso's eyes were glued to the floor at this point and her next answer was very quiet.

"He was."

Harry frowned at her and turned to Jones once more, moving closer and examining him more carefully, though the way Jones' eyes darted about suggested he would object if he weren't held frozen. Harry spoke a single word in his odd language, Jack looking on with curiosity and concern, and Jones glowed a pale, watery blue. What seemed to knock Harry back a step was the harsh, black spot where Jones' heart should have been.

There was the echo of thunder when he spoke at last, in his voice and the sky above, "Calypso, what have you done?" She didn't speak, only bowed her head.

Harry stared at her, through her, as Jack watched. He shook his head slowly and waved her away. She didn't move, staring at the floor, until he whispered, "Get out of my sight." Calypso didn't hesitate, vanishing silently. That taken care of, Harry rested both hands on Jones' sea-soaked shoulders and closed his eyes. Jack frowned from his place, but didn't move, knowing better than to interrupt his little lover at his work. Before his eyes, Jones' fierce, squid-like features melted away into a simple, classically handsome seaman staring at Harry with wide eyes.

Harry stepped back as soon as he finished and Jack stepped up behind him, not liking the slight sway to his lad's steps at all. Harry glanced back at him and managed a small smile that Jack returned, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and resting his cheek on mussed black hair with a whispered, "You and your dramatics, love." Harry laughed.

But Jones was staring at them, and from the feel of many questioning eyes, he wasn't the only one. Jack ignored them all as Harry did, offering what comfort he could in the brush of fingers across chapped knuckles and carded through salt-dried hair while Harry spoke, "I have done all I can for you, Davy Jones." Quiet already, Harry's voice became barely audible, the lapping of shallow waves on a tired shore, when he continued, "I apologize for Calypso. However, I can fix only what she wrought upon you, not the wrongs you have done yourself. Your heart you must recover under your own power."

"You are being given a second chance, Davy Jones." Harry's voice remained quiet, but resounded in the suddenly still sea air. "Do not expect another. You must find someone to love, who will love you. I will send you somewhere to start."

There was a flash of lightning and Jones was gone. Harry whispered on the returning breeze, "Good luck," before turning to bury himself in Jack's arms. Jack let his hands run, soothing, over Harry's back and up his shoulders to his neck, up and down, over and over, until Harry calmed some, though he refused to raise his head from Jack's chest. Jack raised his head at last and shouted at the gawking crews, "Don't just stand around, you lily-livered scuts! Get to work!" His own crew hopped to, as ever, with plenty of sidelong glances his way. Jones' crew lingered uncertainly until Jack roared, " _Dutchman_  crew, get and tend to your ship, we'll come for you later!"

The lot of them seemed too happy for direction to question and quickly made their way back to their own vessel.

It was Harry's turn to whisper into Jack's shirt, " _My_  dramatics, love?" as Jack chuckled.

Determining that the situation was under control for a time, Jack guided Harry carefully to his cabin where they settled on the bed, Harry curled on Jack's lap and still shaken by very fine tremors. Jack wrapped him up in his arms and a thick cover, crooning to him softly until the lad's breathing evened out. Settling back on the bed, Jack smiled as Harry spooned himself against Jack's chest, still firmly wrapped in blanket and arms.

Jack shut his own eyes with a soundless sigh of rue and content. Soon, he dozed off beside his Sorcerer to the sound of rain beginning to fall on the decks of the  _Pearl_.


	6. Ode on Melancholy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty, joy, pleasure and delight: devastated. This is the scent of the hopelessness, torment and despair of love. Lavender and wisteria, heart-wrenching pale rose, desolate white sandalwood and thin, tear-streaked white musk.

Jack woke with a shiver to a damp cloth wiping down his shirtless torso. He opened his eyes with a confused groan and was answered by bloodshot green eyes and a muted chuckle. Concern quickly overtook his confusion as he took in Harry's state. Eyes still puffy with crying dropped back to the bedcovers as Jack sat up. Harry leaned over the side of the bed and rung out his rag over a bucket full of pink-tinted water. Jack allowed a moment to glance at himself and note a few long, bleeding cuts, presumably from his fight with Jones.

A choked sound brought his attention immediately back to his little lover who couldn't have looked more haunted had he tried. Jack had seen that look before, in his father's eyes and his own. Awful memories precluded that look – memories to sour the mind and torment the soul.

Jack was frowning himself by then, unhappy at seeing Harry so unhappy. He raised a careful hand, slowly brushing his palm along the curve of Harry's cheek, the side of his neck, and down the smooth expanse of Harry's own bare chest. He almost smiled to feel the shudder under his hand, and did smile when he saw that Harry's eyes were bright and entirely focused on him.

Their first time together in months was sweet and slow, the dance of lovers with the world and all the time in it. When they lay sated and at ease, Jack wrapped his arms around Harry once more and whispered his question, because it had to be asked to be answered and Jack knew Harry needed to speak, to purge whatever memories were haunting him so.

"What has upset you, my lad?"

Predictably, Harry stiffened in his grasp. Jack was patient, running calloused fingertips over the lad's back, lightly massaging his neck and shoulders, until Harry was boneless in his arms again. He waited, knowing Harry would not have forgotten the question.

Finally, Harry spoke into Jack's neck, chapped lips tickling tanned skin, "You remember I told you about Tom Riddle." Jack nodded and Harry took a deep breath, "I've mentioned there was a war, Tom and I, my friends and his followers, the Death Eaters. I don't think I've said how bad it got, though. It was…awful, by the end." Harry's voice was getting shaky so Jack resumed his stroking, soothing.

"People were dying and disappearing every day, vanishing out of their homes, turning up tortured and displayed for Tom's amusement. Tom Riddle, what he became, was sick and inhuman. I lost everyone I ever cared for to him or his Death Eaters. It wasn't even kept to fights between soldiers and vigilantes; he would send his men on raids of innocent people. They raped the women, murdered the children, tortured the men. No one was spared. And I had to watch it all. I couldn't even find escape in dreams since the second I let my guard down he would swamp my mind with visions."

Harry was breathing hard by that point and Jack was momentarily at a loss for how to calm him. Desperate, he framed Harry's face in his hands and kissed him, hard, leaving no room for any other thoughts or feelings. When they broke for air, Harry was breathing normally again and they both had small smiles on their lips. Their eyes locked and Harry leaned up, kissing Jack lightly, gratefully. When he continued, Harry was calm.

"What Tom became was a lot like Davy Jones. He wasn't human anymore, rather some sort of snake creature." Harry paused, trying to pull together the words to describe why he had reacted as he had with Jones and Calypso.

"But the reason he ever reached that point was because he never understood love. He never had it as a child, never felt it for anyone else. He thought love was a weakness. Like Jones, he tried to be rid of such weakness and along the way sacrificed his humanity. Yesterday, I looked at Jones and it was like I was back there, in the middle of a war I was losing a little more each day." Tears were streaming unnoticed down his cheeks and Jack's grip tightened automatically.

"Then I saw Calypso," Harry's voice dropped and for a moment he wasn't grieving, he was furious. "I saw her and all I understood was that this was her doing and all I could think, over and over, was  _What have you done? What have you done?_ She could have so easily created another Tom! With her carelessness, I could have lost everything all over again. All I could see were her and Jones and that horrible void where his heart should have been and all around us were the bodies of my family and friends and strangers I'd watched die unspeakable deaths."

Harry's face was buried in Jack's chest and his voice was muffled, but no less strident for it. He stopped himself, gulping heavy breaths, "I've trained myself to handle panic and horror. I knew I had to get Calypso away before I did something I might regret, then I had to get Jones out before I lost control. I did it. I couldn't tell you how, with all the dead around me, staring and staring, but I did it and I was just so  _tired_  once I was done. I couldn't see anything but the dead and the past…and then you." Harry's voice was clear and steady for the first time, his eyes met Jack's and he smiled, tiny and warm.

"Suddenly, you were there and you were all I could see. For the first time in a very long time, I felt…safe." Eyes never leaving Jack's, Harry pushed himself up to straddle the bigger man, settling so their lips were just short of touching, sharing breath.

"Jack Sparrow, I do believe I've fallen in love with you."

Jack blinked slowly, and smiled wide and smug. "Well, lad, of course you have. You know I'm a very easy fellow to love." Harry was glaring, though reluctantly amused, when Jack raised himself on his elbows for a searing kiss. He pulled away and Harry's head fell to rest on his chest, rough breaths tickling the hair there. Still smiling, Jack wrapped his arms around his lad from where they'd fallen as Harry shifted. He hummed a little to get Harry's attention and his smile widened as he found green eyes.

"For the record, lad, I love you, too."


	7. Ultraviolet, Part ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Electrifying, mechanized and chilly - the scent of crushed blooms strewn on cold metal. Lush violet and neroli spiked hard with eucalyptus and a sliver of mint.

The next month was rough, Jack seeing far less of his lad than he would like. Harry's time was taken up with covering Calypso's duties and sorting out the  _Dutchman_ 's situation, often leaving him exhausted. More often than not, Harry would appear in bed just in time to sleep wrapped in Jack's arms then vanish with the dawn and a morning kiss.

A week came when several days passed where Jack saw no sign of Harry, then the lad appeared on deck at midday.

Jack moved swiftly from his place at the helm and raised an eyebrow at Harry's palpable fury. Tiny sparks were jumping from tanned skin and there was a subtle charge to the heavy, salt air around the Sorcerer. More worrisome to Jack, were the deep shadows carved about his lad's eyes. Cautious but unafraid, Jack settled his calloused palms on thin shoulders and calmly met green eyes with brown. Coming back to himself, Harry focused on Jack and took several slow breaths. Gradually, the charge vanished from the air and the sparks settled to swirl under sun-warmed skin. Harry nodded gratefully and Jack just grinned, stepping back at his lad's quiet request.

Making sure he had plenty of room, Harry raised both palms and muttered a string of foreign words, ending on a hiss.

Directly before him, Tia Dalma appeared, surrounded by her characteristic scent of smoke and eucalyptus. It would seem the woman had some idea who she was dealing with, Jack thought, as she choked and dropped to her knees in front of Harry, whose frown became a scowl at the obeisance. Her voice was shaky as she whispered, though everyone heard it clearly, "Sorcerer."

Harry's expression was cold and utterly unyielding, for once clearly revealing his lack of humanity and Jack had to resist a shudder at the sight of his sweet lad with that face.

"You are no longer necessary, Vessel," the Sorcerer announced and Tia Dalma was ashes in the wind at a wave of his hand. In her place stood Calypso, eyes wide. She understood, even if their human audience didn't, exactly how much trouble she was in for a greater being like the Sea Sorcerer to destroy her human vessel.

She dropped to her knees at Harry's feet and queried, breathless, terrified and uncertain, "Sorcerer. What has happened?" The Sorcerer's lack of any expression when he spoke was more telling than any overt fury, "You dare ask me what has happened, Calypso. You dare even to speak to me after what you have done?"

Harry's words  _dragged_  like a rough tide crashing against the shore, "Your crimes before were unfortunate, but manageable. Imagine my surprise when I discover, in the course of performing  _your_  duties, exactly what you have been playing with." The Sorcerer's bright eyes shimmered and blazed, fire raining from a clear sky.

"Souls. You played with those men's  _souls_ , Calypso. Even I could not repair the damage you had wrought. I was left no recourse but to send  _twenty-three innocent men_  to the afterlife. Again, Calypso," and for the first time, there was a very human sadness about Harry's form, "I have cleaned up your mess."

Calypso held herself very still. "You know the rules as well as any of the others, set down long before your time to ensure such chaos as you have wrought would not occur. There are no more second chances."

Watching closely as he was, Jack noticed the fine tremors in Calypso's hands as she bowed her head. Her only response was soft and hoarse and heavy, "It is my nature." Jack frowned at the sorrow that framed his lad's beautiful eyes when he brought a pale hand up to cup Calypso's cheek.

"I know, child. But you know the rules and  _here_  you are my responsibility." He lifted her chin to meet her eyes, his own diamond-hard, "We do not interfere. You know the law and you know the punishment."

Harry stepped back and Calypso's head dropped like a doll cut from its strings. The Sorcerer raised his palms to the quickly clouding sky and began chanting in that language that made Jack's bones ache. Before them, a multitude of glowing, flickering amorphous figures appeared, what might have been heads tilted toward the Sorcerer and Calypso.

"This child of Gods has broken our oldest laws," Harry's voiced cracked like thunder on the air. "I call now for her to be stripped of all power and memory and left to live out her remaining years as a human. I speak as Guardian of Sea and Soul. Will you stand by my decision?"

There was a roar like massive waves overturning cities and ships and families, and Harry nodded as the figures blinked out.

With a look and a single, silent gesture, Calypso was gone.


	8. Ultraviolet, Part TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Electrifying, mechanized and chilly - the scent of crushed blooms strewn on cold metal. Lush violet and neroli spiked hard with eucalyptus and a sliver of mint.

Harry collapsed. Jack knew more happened as his crew was suddenly free to move and speak and the skies cleared, but all he could focus on in that moment was Harry, his beautiful Harry who was lying so small and still on the decks of the  _Black Pearl_.

Before he knew it, Jack was by Harry's side, kneeling and releasing a sharp breath as the rise and fall of his lad's chest became clear to his eyes. Scooping the lad up without a word, Jack rose and turned to his cabin, somewhere in the back of his mind grateful to Gibbs for moving everyone out of his way and managing the aftermath while he tended to Harry. While all he could do, was tend to Harry.

Harry didn't wake for two days, and Jack didn't sleep. He spent every moment lying beside his Harry, propped up on one arm to watch that chest rise and fall, rise and fall. He was disturbed only when Gibbs came by with food to ensure he ate and didn't collapse himself.

As he watched, Jack worked through the events in his mind, going over them again and again. He didn't like seeing Harry that way, but he understood. Everyone, man or god, had a limit to their compassion.

Jack Sparrow was a pirate Captain – he knew terrible things in his bones as well as he knew he had done some terrible things and would likely do them again. He wasn't frightened or angry with Harry and even though it made him feel like a fool, he told his unconscious lover that. As a matter of fact, when he wasn't thinking Jack filled the silence with whispers to Harry, about how well he understood and how much he missed his lad and how much he loved him and quiet, three-in-the-morning pleas to  _please, please, wake up_.

He couldn't remember ever being so deeply relieved as he was the moment when Harry whispered back, _I'm here. I love you. I'm not going anywhere_.

They stayed in his cabin for most of the third day, only leaving when night had fallen and the crew was long asleep in their bunks. Jack followed Harry then to their spot on the  _Pearl_ 's prow and if he clutched Harry a little tighter than usual, neither of them commented.

The rest of that night was spent with Harry whispering to an exhausted Jack, about how sorry he was and how much he loved his pirate and how awful the world could be and how a little boy named Tom broke his soul into little bits and proceeded to break the world, too. How little Tom even broke Time.

Jack sighed at the end and smiled when they were suddenly back in his bed. He laughed when Harry took his arms and wrapped them firmly around his thin waist, then kissed Jack slowly and sweetly.

The sun rose minutes later and soft, even breathing filled Captain Jack Sparrow's quarters as he and the Sea Sorcerer slept at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. It's been a fun ride.


End file.
